Chapter 8

Voldemort strode into the cell, Draco following a step behind, taking a position slightly behind and to the left. Adopting a military rest position, the blonde man's face was cold and blank.

A toothy smile spread across the Dark Lord's face, a menacing chuckle filling the air at the elder Malfoy's expression of horrified realisation.

Lucius whimpered, "My Lord!"

"Ah, Lucius. You've caused me a great deal of trouble, you realise. Because of you I've been forced to accelerate my plans. I am most displeased." Voldemort's voice was sibilant, the breathy tone making it almost a vocal caress.

"My Lord! Please forgive me, I didn't know!"

Lucius' voice was panicked, and 'Draco' decided a sneer wouldn't be out of place. He'd practiced it in the mirror before beginning this little show, so he knew he could pull it off.

"Silence!" Voldemort's voice cracked like a whip. "Forgive you?" He drifted forwards, and stroked the side of Lucius' jaw, placing a finger under his chin to tilt his face up. "Your interference nearly cost me my most valued servant. Perhaps you could tell me what you thought you were doing, hmm?"

Piercing red eyes bored into terrified grey.

Lucius swallowed, trying to work some moisture into his parched throat.

"My Lord, I believed my son to be bringing shame to the family with his refusal to marry the bride selected for him, and produce an heir. I sought to bring him to heel by separating him from his mysterious lover.

"I thought that the threat of Azkaban would be enough to cow him. I had intended to leave him long enough to give up hope, and then offer him a choice; if he married Miss Parkinson and produced an heir, I would secure a pardon for him, or have his sentence altered to house arrest. If not, I would disown him and leave him there, siring another child myself."

Lucius whimpered as the thin fingers gripped his chin painfully. He watched as the Dark Lord finally spared a glance for the terrified girl next to him.

"And what part did you play in this little saga, my dear? Beyond attempting to steal my consort, that is."

Pansy swayed in her seat, held up mainly by the ropes wrapped around her body. "I…"

Voldemort sneered. "Speak, child, and do not waste my time."

"M-My Lord, I identified the target, and alternated with Mr Malfoy for the assignations with her prior to her disposal." Pansy gasped out, her words almost running together.

Releasing Lucius's chin, Voldemort laughed, stalking slowly around the chairs, trailing his fingers across Pansy's shoulders and neck as he passed behind her.

"Oh you did, did you?" He leaned close, hands resting lightly on her shoulders as he whispered in her ear. His position behind her making it impossible for her to see him. "Were you the one who killed her? Were you brave enough to look into her eyes as she died? Did you have the stomach to witness the life drain from the person you chose?"

Shuddering at the breath ghosting against her neck, Pansy whimpered. "N-No, My Lord. I was to maintain my alibi on the night she died, in case something went wrong. I needed to be free to bear the Malfoy heir."

Voldemort straightened, and looked at the restrained blonde. "Did you do your own dirty work, Lucius? Was it your hand that took Draco from my side?"

Lucius closed his eyes in resignation. "Yes, My Lord."

"It is fortunate that your son is considerably more intelligent than yourself. His presence has been quite… Pleasurable. The same cannot be said for you, or the odious Miss Parkinson." Voldemort grabbed a handful of the blonde hair, using it to yank Lucius's head back harshly as he purred into his ear. "You will pay dearly for your pathetic attempt to take what is mine."

Throwing himself on the couch as he waited for the Polyjuice to wear off, Ron loosed a hefty sigh.

When Harry had revealed his ability to perfectly mimic nearly anyone it had seemed like harmless fun, and many drunken nights had been spent in Harry's lounge room testing his range. The Umbridge impersonation was disturbing to the extreme, but this was an entirely different level. Seeing Harry not just mimic Voldemort's voice, but his mannerisms and appearance too, was the stuff of nightmares.

"Take off your clothes."

Voldemort's voice crooning in his ear sent Ron leaping to his feet.

"Don't do that!" He ran his hand through his hair as he attempted to slow his racing heartbeat.

Harry chuckled. "Sorry. Forgot to drop the voice. But seriously, take Draco's clothes off. If you ruin his favourite pants I'll be in for hell later."

Ron grumbled, heading to the bedroom to change.

Emerging in his own clothes, he accepted the glass of scotch from Harry, avoiding looking at him.

"Seriously mate, please take off that disguise. It's creepy as fuck seeing you look like that."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, just waiting for Hermione. She put some sort of signature lock on it in case Lucius or Parkinson tried to dispel the glamour. I didn't even know that was possible."

Ron pursed his lips, impressed once again by his wife's intellect.

"Fair enough. I'll just sit here and have a drink with the Dark Lord, in my best mate's living room. Because what else am I going to do after abducting two people without a warrant and holding them prisoner while questioning them illegally?" He gave a sickly smile.

"Oh honestly, Ron, don't be so dramatic." Hermione bustled in, waving her wand at Harry to dispel the glamours.

Harry gave her a grateful grin and ducked into the bathroom to scrub himself raw under painfully hot water.

Only Draco knew that it was a common routine for him after being reminded of the war.

Freshly scalded, scrubbed and dressed, Harry rejoined his friends, slumping into his favourite chair. Resting his head against the back, he accepted a glass of scotch from Ron.

He sipped, mentally comparing it to the bottle of Suntory that he had won the night Draco had found him. He still had about half of it left. Without discussing it, it had become 'their' bottle, and was only brought out when they were alone and celebrating something together.

The scotch came a very poor second.

"So remind me again why we did all that rather than just dosing them with Veritaserum?" Harry asked the room, keeping his eyes closed.

He'd expected a lecture from Hermione, but to his surprise it was Ron who answered.

"Because they'll be given it in the courtroom tomorrow, and doses need to be separated by seventy two hours at least, or you run a high risk of fatally poisoning the recipient. And even if he is guilty, I doubt Draco would be particularly happy with you if you let that happen to his father. Just as he wouldn't be happy if you simply beat the truth out of them – and yes, I know that's what you were planning to do.

"But becoming the one person Lucius was afraid of and wouldn't dare hide the truth from? Nothing illegal about dressing up in a Halloween costume and listening to someone talk about whatever's on their mind. Though the abduction bit is still a problem. But on the upside, it's you, and you caught a murderer, so what are the going to do?"

Ron shrugged and went back to his drink, trying not to remember how thoroughly Harry had played the role. He wasn't sure he'd be able to look at his friend for a while.